Can I take you to Dinner? Mafi-fell!Sans x Reader. [COMPLETED]

The Ritz

Sans regretted this.
Sans regretted this a LOT.

The Ritz was as it was; it's finest, the lights luminecent, the band strumming a jovial tune whilst couples twirled around, the food was culinarily extraordinary- (Though sans begged to differ due to mustard regulations.) And she wasn't having a bar of it!! He sat there in silence, staring at you, head still turned as you glared at the wall. With a small 'Ah' to himself, he rapped his bony fingers against the table in bored rhythm. Another moment of silence passed before he spoke up: "So, how's work??" He grinned. You sent him a withering glare, nose crinkled in a disgusted manner he found cute. He chuckled, holding his phalanges up in surrender: "Hehe, just teasin' bub! No harm innit-!" You assumed the 'wall-glare' position again, him letting out a defeated sigh. You were too good for him, he knew it, you knew it. Wait- no gal was too good for Sans!! THE Sans!

Rather than admitting total defeat, the very offer to take you home died in his mouth. Time for a more aggressive approach. "Listen Doll, I'm sure you don't like me at the moment, gonna be honest, I don't blame you. Seein' me bein'.... brash... with your boss would be more than enough for any one to say no to dinner-" Your glare softened slightly, and it was all the leeway he needed. With a smirk he shifted a little in his seat, more comfortable to...

I dunno, what could he do really? Show her a good time? Sell 'er a sob story?? .....That could be arranged, a side of remorse, guilt, apology, the telling of a tale which parts of were only slightly true?? The plot was already forming in his head....
But, the first one had won-over easily. What? It wasn't called an aggressive approach for nothin'!With a grunt and a skeletal hand pressed against his knee, he eyed you- crimson eye dully ablaze as he continued on with his speech.
"Your boss and I- we used to be friends y'know? Roughhoused all the time back in those days.." Your gaze remained glued on the wall, softening. "They were good times...." his hand made a motion from under the table, your lips parting with a breathless shudder as a familiar ring formed round your heart.

"-Just like you're gonna have..."

-

The vice round your soul was warming, an gentle encirclement of just- "Mmm..." you moaned through lidded eyes the (s/t) skin of your bare neck outlined in the illumination of a thousand crystals that hung from the roof. You glared at him through your haze; "Stop that..." you groaned in attempt to steel over, an attempt that made Sans run his tongue against his teeth in anticipation. "If I recall, I only ask ladies to dinner, soooo manners please bub."

You glared. He grinned. You were tempted to spit. He was tempted to bite. "Well??" He asked expectantly, tightening his grip ever so slightly. You frowned further defiantly, quaking before he let out a rumbling chuckle. "Tough one aren't you? Cute." His hand clenched, you whining as you moved towards him by invisible force as if bound and unwilling.... which you were. The table moved aside seamlessly, stationary until you glided into his lap, thighs comfortably around his bony hips in a way you were ashamed of, face filled with furious flush. He grinned, sockets narrowing in what you could only describe as lust. And it disgusted you.

And- the way he held you, what he was making you feel- ...it made you sick, somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew it was wrong, disgustingly wrong, which made him try all the more harder. One of his phalanges settled on the small of your back as his other manoeuvred your hands gently to wrap around his neck. "Much better." He smirked, hands stilling at your small; "You're cuter when you're complacent." He said simply, you gritting your teeth. Another motion of his illuminated fist and you were pressed against him tightly, breasts against his vested chest, legs clamping tightly as he rolled his hips pleasantly, getting comfortable as he enjoyed the view.

God damn...

You looked just- he didn't know how to describe it, an angel of sorts was perched in his lap. A glaring angel but an angel nonetheless. Your (h/c) hair fell in straggly pieces around your face framed in flush, he held back from entangling his hands In your (h/c) strands with a cough: "So angel cakes," He grinned, enjoying the new nickname; "Howsa view??" You scowled venomously, to which he barked out at your humiliation. "Ah," he laughed, plucking his cigar box from his breast pocket, all the while looking at you. "Aren't you quite the tough cookie, huh toots?"

You wavered, legs trembling. "P-Please-.." He cocked a socket in amusement. "What was that sweets?" You swallowed, your pride washing down with it. "Please stop..." you begged despite your flush. Humiliating. He looked at you, red stare drilling into you. "Tell me what you want." You were almost surprised. "Tell me what you wanna do." He prompted you. "I...." God damn it. "I want to just get back to dinner..." He smiled cruelly. "If that's what you wanted then this could've gone a lot nicer, minus kidnapping- if you had just said yes to me in the first place-!" He gripped your chin lightly, pulling you to him. And with that- your scorn was reborn with a foul frown. "I am allowed to say no-! You have no right to corner me! Have you ever heard of persistence-?" You continued to rant to his interest- you weren't like other humans, were you? So afraid of what hid in the dark...

He lit another one of his foul cigars ignorantly. You felt tempted to slap him but your hands refused to cooperate, your eyes bulging as he smirked up at you snidely. "Now," he began: "I'm going to give you a choice; you can either reprociate, and we'll go back to having dinner, boozin' and telling jokes, maybe dancin' a lil if you feel like it and I'll drop you back home- or..." he continued in a low growl: "we can continue being difficult," he said as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. "And I will make life very, VERY hard for you... So what's it gonna be doll?"

You spat.

"Oh, you just don't know when to quit, do you?" He chuckled, inhaling his cigar before blowing a vehement ring of smoke in your face, it swallowing up the atmosphere that surrounded you until the smoke cleared, you both contained in a thick, vile bubble of it.

"I like it."